The royal corridors stretched endlessly before Lucian, their opulence now suffocating. Every polished column, every flickering torch, seemed to whisper of betrayal, of a glory lost.
The Hero of the Kingdom? A farce.
The Chosen of the Gods? Forgotten.
The Savior of the People? Abandoned.
And Kael—Kael had played him like a puppet.
His boots echoed through the marble halls like judgment. Every step felt heavier. Slower. As if the world itself recoiled from him.
The moonlit garden awaited, quiet and still—a sanctuary of silver and silence. Statues of fallen heroes stood solemn along the path, each carved in timeless triumph.
Once, Lucian had walked here with pride.
Now, he couldn't meet their eyes.
Then—footsteps. Soft. Familiar.
He turned.
She stood there. The woman he had loved. Fought for. Bled for.
"Say it's a lie," Lucian whispered. "Tell me you don't believe them. That you still believe in me."
Silence.
Her gaze faltered. "Lucian…"
"I did this for you," he said, stepping forward. "For the kingdom. For us."
But she took a step back.
"You let your anger lead you," she said softly. "You changed."
Lucian's heart pounded. "I was betrayed! Kael twisted everything—"
"Maybe," she interrupted, "you were the one who never saw the truth."
Her voice was quiet.
But it struck like lightning.
Lucian staggered, breath shallow.
"Don't..." he choked. "Don't turn your back on me."
But she already had.
Her footsteps faded, leaving him under the cold moonlight.
And the last piece of his world crumbled into silence.
Lucian stood still.
Numb.
Then—clapping.
Slow. Inevitable. Mocking.
Kael.
He leaned against a marble pillar, bathed in moonlight like some infernal wraith, eyes gleaming with amusement.
Lucian turned, fury igniting.
"You," he spat.
Kael gave a mild smile. "You make it sound personal."
Lucian's fists trembled. "You did this."
"I merely lifted the veil," Kael replied coolly. "The rest? You managed all on your own."
"LIAR!"
Lucian lunged—but Kael barely moved. A sidestep. A flick of the wrist. Lucian stumbled past him, a shadow of the warrior he once was.
Kael didn't even draw a blade.
Just a breath of a sigh. "So predictable."
Lucian whirled, face twisted with rage.
Kael stepped forward, voice silk over steel.
"You stood on a pedestal. Praised. Worshipped. But the moment they saw your cracks? They fled. The King doubts. The Church whispers. Your allies scatter."
He tilted his head toward the castle.
"And she?"
Lucian's eyes burned.
Kael's tone turned deathly quiet.
"She left you."
Lucian's knees buckled.
"I—I can still fix this," he gasped.
Kael leaned in.
"No, Lucian," he said, voice laced with poison. "You were never a hero. You were a symbol. A convenient myth."
He paused.
"And now?"
He stepped back, gaze cold and final.
"You're nothing."
Lucian's sword slipped from his grasp. The once-sacred blade, once radiant with divine light, fell into the garden's earth with a dull thud. Its glow flickered.
Then faded.
He dropped to his knees.
Not broken in body.
But shattered in soul.
And Kael?
Kael turned his back.
He didn't need to kill the Hero.
He had erased him.
To be continued...